Deadlock
by Tahti
Summary: Ben comes up with an extremely wicked test for his captives. There's no way out. JATE, set in S3. Started out as v. angsty plotless smut, back now with a plot, by popular demand. Rated M for massive sexual references, language and disturbing images.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:** Remind me again, what do I own? A debited bank account? Which is where possessions like Lost would have come in handy. So nope, not mine, either Lost, or any of its characters, if it was, though, it might just turn into a very different genre. ;)_

**WARNING:**

This story contains massive sexual references, some offensive language and some scenes which might be disturbing. So if graphic sex scenes and foul words are not your thing, please back off right now. You've been warned.

_**Warning 2:** It's loooong... /yawns/ Lol_

_**A/N: **The story is basically a plotless smut, angsty one, though. You'll find some fluff, too, unfortunately I couldn't resist, it's too much fun to write, lol. It resulted in the characters being out of characters, I presume, since I can't really imagine them blabbering so much, but WTH, it's just a fic. :) So for some reason my twisted gutter mind decided to drag our favourite tortured doctor and his damsel-not-in-such-distress through a dirty mouse hole of a tough experience. With Fenry revealing a dirty little pervert in him (ah, I loved making him a psycho, lol!). I'm not sure where it came from, maybe from overloading my brain with the "happy-ever-after" stories recently. However, bear in mind, that although I totally believe in the real world you could find a lunatic who'd come up with a sick idea like the one below, sadly (look at myself, lol), I'm having troubles picturing the victims would actually be up for the challenge. And I mean literally. ;) Yet who really knows what people have in them when it comes to saving their loved ones?... Especially when it's Jack & Kate we're talking about. Ha!_

_One more thing: English is by no means my mother tongue, so I may lack badly in the department of vocabulary sophistication and such. Please do not hesitate making improvement suggestions! _

_So... seems after doing my best to ward you off from this piece, and yet if you're still here, take a sit, disconnect your phone and prepare a glass of icy water. ;) Enjoy!_

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"I want you to fuck her."

Henry's voice was flat and matter-of-fact, as if he was talking about a common technical procedure.

Jack's head snapped up.

"_What_!"

He was sure he misheard. They were in a testing room of some kind, only dimly lit, its walls of coarse concrete dusty and bleak. No windows, just thick musty humidity which invaded Jack's nostrils as he tried to make his position. There was large a glass panel dividing the room in half, behind which Henry stood, along with a middle-aged black woman and another man, in a white lab coat, clutching a clipboard. Jack had been shoved in here; still slightly unsteady after whatever they had drugged him with, before having the handcuffs undone roughly and the bag removed from his head quickly by two stocky men, who then locked the door behind him.

"You heard me: I want you to have an intercourse with her, Dr. Shepard."

The glass getting steamed as Henry moved up closer to it. His words sank in Jack's head making no sense, he almost laughed at the absurdity,_ he_ couldn't possibly be serious. But then he saw something at which a cold grip of horrifying comprehension clenched over his heart: there, by what looked like a steel operating table, was Kate, bent over the surface, her arms stretched in front of her and clasped in some sort of handcuffs, locked to the table. Her legs were spread apart, each ankle buckled up to the legs of the table. She was gagged. And completely naked. With her behind facing Jack, she twisted her neck, lifting her head and looking around, squirming and choking on her panicked sobs.

When she had been ordered to undress and then got anchored to this appliance, she had known sickeningly clear what was going to happen to her: some sick bastard of theirs would force himself up and into her, would try to break her by invading her body, oh, she wouldn't give it to them and scream, she would grid her teeth and think of Jack, that if she didn't endure it, she would never see him again. Alive. That's what they had told her.

And there he was, there he stood, and they were about to make him hurt her in the most gruesome possible way.

"Oh God, Kate!.."

He was by her side in an instant, ripping his shirt off of himself, doing his best to cover her, aware of her humiliation, desperately wanting to ease it somehow, to make this better, to fix it. He knelt beside her, removing the gag with shaky fingers, gently pushing away the strands of hair that stuck to her tear-streaked face, trying not to touch her much, in case she might have a glimpse thought he would actually do what Henry was saying.

"Jack…" was all she managed hoarsely, her expression going from utter panic to one of total relief that he was alive and he was with her and surely he would protect her and surely he wouldn't hurt her.

"Kate, are you all right, are you in any pain, did they hurt you?" His concerned eyes searching her own.

"I'm - " she cleared her throat. "God, Jack, it's a nightmare! I'm so scared!" Kate broke.

He felt a heavy weight pressing at his insides.

"Did they-… have you-…before -…" His hand came up in a waver at the space between them, as he backed away ever so slightly, his whole body tensing, dreading the answer.

"No, no, Jack" she shook her head.

"They just made me undress and then put me on this." Her voice breaking as she sobbed.

"They told me if I didn't they'd kill you, Jack! That I would never see you again, that they would show me your dead body!" She was obviously disturbed. "I never knew where they were taking me to. Or to whom." She added in a barely audible voice before crying again.

"Shhh, Kate, it's all right, it's OK, I'm here, I'll try to get you out of this, I _will_ get you out of this…"

He repeated breathlessly, his reassuring doctor's tone in place, but as he shook the heavy hoops restraining her arms and legs in desperate attempts to unclasp or break them, he could not feel the steel giving way at the slightest. Sound, solid steel.

In an outburst of white rage, he jumped to his feet and up close to the glass.

"You sick motherfuckers, let her out of this!" He demanded banging at the glass with open palms.

"LET HER OUT OF THIS! I'll do whatever is that you want me to do, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just LET HER OUT!" His fury left him panting heavily and pacing along the glass in long, impatient strides, sweat on his temples, as he attacked the glass again, this time with a forceful kick.

"We have time, Dr. Shepard, we are in no hurry." was all, the black woman said, calm and steady voice, as the small group backed away slightly from the virtual partition.

"Just what kind of insane beasts are you! There's no way in a million years this would happen!" Jack was almost laughing as he stood upright in front of them, every muscle in his body tensed, clenching his fists, alert and angry and ready to fight.

"You hear me, you scum!? There. Is. NO! WAY! You can keep me here forever and you'll never see it happen!"

He shouted glancing back at Kate, who had stopped crying and was just making small sniffling noises, and she shuddered too, beginning to feel cold, Jack's shirt over her back and behind didn't really do much except returning some of her shattered dignity. She was so grateful he had put it on her; she knew deep down that he would do anything and everything to spare her this condition.

"Well, since you are so unwilling to participate in our research, one of our volunteers will gladly do that."

Henry's wicked smirk crept up his features, as he watched Jack's jaw slacken, his eyes growing wide with realization and then his head shaking slowly from one side to another.

"No.." Jack breathed out. "No.."

"Oh yes, very strong yes." Jack was sure he caught a glimpse of sheer madness is Henry's eyes.

"Bring them in." Henry ordered and Jack watched in horror as a door on the other side of the room opened, and three men appeared by Henry's side. They were all around Jack's age and strong posture, wearing discarded clothing and lecherous, mad expressions. They must have been on stimulating drugs of some kind, he decided, and they clearly enjoyed it, the thought making him nauseous.

"So, the lady even gets to pick, Dr. Shepard, or if she's lucky, she may _get lucky_ more than once." chuckled Henry spitefully, causing Jack's vision spin and his stomach revolt.

He heard a small whimper from where Kate was still unable to move.

"Don't let them, Jack!" she managed through the tears streaming her face once again.

"Please don't let them…!"

He was torn as he stood there frozen. There was no way in the world he'd let any of those psychos near Kate even if that would cost him his life. But how could he possibly do what they wanted him to do and… he didn't even know how to call it… fuck her? Make love to her? Rape her? The notion made him feel physically sick. He would be indeed raping her, she didn't want this,_ he_ didn't want this, not like that, not like that. Kate was his daylight, she was the reason he hadn't gone completely insane on this island, he was at times scared of how deep his feelings for her run. How was he supposed to hurt her intentionally?

And then it dawned on him: they were trying to bring them apart. For whatever reason, they were trying to break them using each against the other. To make her hate him and to make him hate himself, to stain their affection forever so it can't be undone, they could never be together after that, they could never comfort each other. By complying and having her here and now he'd loose her forever, but if he didn't and let _them_ instead, she'd loathe him even more.

As if hearing his thoughts Kate spoke:

"Jack, Jack, can't you see what they are trying to do? They are trying to break us, break _you_.." she said softly.

"They think I'd hate you after that, whatever your choice would be and you'd hate yourself, and I'd hate myself for hating you."

He drank in her eyes. Shining with tears, pleading… Pleading…

"We are waiting here, Dr. Shepard" Jack's attention snapped to Henry and his disgusting _volunteers_.

"Jack…" Kate again. "Please…"

"Kate-… I-… " he was shaking his head, once again bringing his palms to his temples.

"How could I?..." he said quietly.

"How could I, Kate!" he questioned her in a raised voice.

"Well, I take it you made you decision, Dr. Shepard." said Henry with a crooked smile.

"Someone will be right there with sedation. A mild one, mind you, so you get to enjoy the show. And our fair lady is lucky today, I guess, after all." He chuckled and motioned for the men to depart the room.

"No!" Kate's shriek tore the air before he finished speaking.

"No!" she wiggled in panic, causing Jack's shirt to fall off of her.

"Jack, don't let them, you can't let them, don't let them, please, please, Jack!" she screamed in distress, begging him desperately.

"Do what he wants, just don't let _them_!" The prospect of _them_ blocked in her mind by paralyzing fear; she had to find a way to convince him.

He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. Whatever he decided, she was going to end up hurt in the most emotional way, she would take years to recover or may never recover, he thought, as heavy, stone-cold, hopeless sorrow enveloped his heart. He glanced at Henry, wishing with all his might that some sudden lighting would split the bastard in two, the three men not there anymore, most probably on their way to…

He closed his eyes. And then opened them to look at Kate, who was shaking uncontrollably as endless tears run down her face. He saw her beautiful green eyes filled with blunt fear, something he had once thought would never make its way to them. And a silent plea…

At least he would make sure it's as little physically painful for her as possible, he thought bitterly.

"I'll do it."

Defeat, yes, but his eyes never leaving hers. He watched her eyelids shut and her features tense as if she braced herself mentally for what was about to happen. An immediate wave of self-loathing washed over him. Was he becoming an animal, just like their captors? Was he about to break what's dearest to him, what he loved more than life, what would then be damaged beyond repair?

And then her eyes reopened, and what he saw there took his breath away while causing his heart to sink into a bottomless black abyss: he saw love. Pure and deep and unconditional love, just as if her eyes were a mirror for his own, she poured her soul and her whole being down to him in this look. She wanted him to know. It was breaking his heart.

"Very well, then." Henry cracked "Proceed."

"What, here!" he said in confusion. "Aren't you going to untie her?"

"Of course here, it's a scientific research, we don't need for you to get all cozy, we need an act of intercourse." Henry stated.

Jack considered his options. "I'll do that, if you untie her."

"I'm afraid you're not really in a position to make demands."

He shifted his weight as Henry made no move behind the glass. He turned to Kate.

"Kate, I-… I'm so sorry. So very sorry. It's all my fault. It would have never happened to you if I…"

He ran his hands over his brow and then down the back of his head. His posture slumbered visibly as he gave up for once, in dreary awareness that he was cornered and there was no light in the tunnel. A tear run down his face before he had a chance to fight it back.

"Jack, listen to me, you _can't_ let this get to you, you _can't_ let them break you! We are in this together, and we must, we MUST-" she emphasized the word "-refuse for that to break us!" she wasn't crying anymore, but her eyelids were puffy and red.

He knelt by her side, replacing his shirt on top of her bashfully, sniffling.

"Kate, if there was something…_ anything_… I could do to avoid putting you through this, believe me…" one more tear from underneath his eyelids, as he spoke softly.

"I know, Jack, I know." she whispered.

"You will hate me, you will fear me, you will be repulsed by me."

"No, Jack, I won't, _none_ of these will ever happen." She shook her head vigorously, wishing she could grab his shoulders and shake him.

"Because that's exactly what they want to happen and I will not allow it, do you understand me? I will _never_ allow it. You are-… Jack… you… I… you have no idea… "

She struggled for words. There was so much she would love to tell him, how she felt, how he made her feel, how his mere presence comforted her and made her feel safe, how his smile made her heart flutter, and his scent dizzied her with desire, how when he had been gone, she was sick with fear and also how she feared those feelings, but she didn't want to do that now, not here, not like this. So she just kept staring into his eyes, her own pooling again, she stared and prayed that he understood, that he saw it there.

He did. A quick nod of his head.

"I know. I know. It's alright, it's OK, Kate."

His voice barely a whisper, as he reached to stroke her cheekbone with his thumb ever so gently. All of a sudden her eyes closed tight and she was aware of nothing more than his roughed skin touching hers and leaned her face into his palm desperately trying to push away to the back of her mind the notion of those painful hoops holding her limbs and the fact she was not able to throw her arms around him now. The thoughts just squeezing more tears out of her eyes.

"No, you don't know." She needed to be absolutely sure he knew what she'd meant. She took a deep breath.

"I did want it. I _do_ want it. You. Us." Her words no more than a whisper, suddenly shy, cheeks hot against the metal surface she was pressed onto, only glancing up at him for a brief moment. He looked confused.

"Just… not like this…" she trailed off.

"No. Not like this." His words echoing hers.

With that, he rose slightly, pushing his hand deeper into her curls and bringing his face inches from hers. Despite the awkward position of her head, she managed to bring it just a bit up, as she met him in a kiss. A kiss that never went deep and never grew passionate. It was not one of lust, of raw desire that had flooded him whenever he'd be near her. Oh, how he wished now that he had acted upon this desire! That he had had a chance to kiss her with affection, with urging, with hunger, with passion! How he wished he had had a chance to show her how much he loved her by taking her fast and hard, by taking her slow and tender, by playing her body like a musical instrument, and she would utter his name in ecstasy, not in pain or fear.

It was a kiss of recognition, of acknowledgment, of comfort and reassurance.

A few seconds passed, their mouths still pressed tightly together, tasting each others' tears, barely moving their lips, his hand unconsciously pressing at the back of her head, too hard, he realized, trying to bring her even closer.

Kate twisted her wrists in their restraints hopelessly, as if she expected to break free, her frustration at not being able to touch him, to sink into his safe embrace eating away at her heart. She was sure if she'd been freed and able to hold him and caress him, than there would be no trauma in it, they'd just make love like she secretly fantasized, they would be able to detach themselves from the surroundings. She would be able to. But no, that's not what _they_ wanted.

"I remind you, Dr. Shepard, that your task is an intercourse." came from across the room.

Jack's head snapped up and around. "I told you I'd do it and I will. My way." His angry reply coming out in a hiss.

He turned back to her with the look of concern and sadness and overwhelming need to make her feel safe, somehow.

"Kate" he said softly, not taking his hand away from her face, as he continued to stroke the wet skin delicately. "I need you to keep your eyes shut and pretend with all your might that it's just you and me, that we are not here, _they_ are not here, and that we are just … I don't know…" he sighed out exhaustingly "…playing a game. Please. Kate." He poured all of him into the plea.

"But I won't be able to see you… To hold you…" her voice broke.

"Kate! I will hold you, I promise you, you_ will_ feel that, I swear! - " his voice thick with emotion. "Just keep you eyes shut, trust me, please, I promise I will do everything not to cause you any pain."

With that, his eyes, full of love and pain, bore into hers, as she nodded and shut her eyelids tight.

She then felt the rush of air at her side, as he stood up, shifting. What came next, was her hair being lifted away, and tugged to the side gently, as his dry, warm lips connected with the side of her neck, just below her ear. She drew in a sharp breath when his rough stubble tickled her sensitive skin.

"Keep you eyes closed, Kate, keep them closed" she heard his soft whisper, his breath caressing her ear.

"It's just you and me, you and me, Kate, it's all that matters."

She obeyed, never looking up, as she felt his body enveloping her, outlining her position, when he leaned over and onto her, placing his bare chest on her back and stretching his arms out over hers, covering her, reaching for her hands and entwining his fingers with hers. He never removed the shirt which he had placed on her before in feeble pretence of giving her privacy which he was yet to strip off of her. However, she could feel the coarse hair on his chest, the solid reassuring warmth of his body, his strength and his protective gentleness, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

Placing the softest of kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders, Jack kept whispering to her, his warm breath fondling her skin and his voice stirring the desire for him to wake.

"Kate…. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it, hadn't imagined what it would be like to have you, to take you and make you mine, to really know you and know what it takes for you to scream. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'd fantasized about it being _my_ name you scream, and about all the things that I would do to you, how I would touch you, what your skin would feel like under my fingers, and what it would taste like."

She let out a small gasp. She could feel his thumbs gently massaging the insides of her palms and wrists, moving up the undersides of her arms, to the hollows of her elbows, his chest muscles flexed over her back, pressing her tentatively but surely to the surface and his hips rubbing lightly against her bare buttocks. A familiar spasm unwound in her lower abdomen, spreading up to her chest, as she slowly let herself take in his words, bringing her to realization of what he was doing: he was trying to arouse her, so she would be wet enough for the penetration not to be painful. Her heart swell with emotion, a mixture of gratitude and pride over this man, this good man, and of something else, the feeling rooted at the very core of her being, she wouldn't even dare to roll the name in her mind, as blatant as it really was to her. Love.

"There would be days when I couldn't bear the thought of getting near you, so dizzy with lust for you, I was afraid I'd snap, Kate, and take you right there, on the spot. The smell of you, oh, it would make my head spin, so sweet and milky and tangy all at once. I found myself sniffing on your sweaty tank top once, Kate, and growing hard immediately."

She whimpered gently and wriggled beneath him.

"I did…. the same…" her sharp breath almost inaudible. "I'd sniff on your used clothes… I sneaked one of your shirts and I… oh…'" she let out a gasp, as she felt one of his hands sneak underneath her to cup her breast. "…would sleep in it, inhaling your scent, and imagining that you were… beside me and I… would touch myself pretending…" she was cut off as he rubbed his open palm over her breast, hardening the bud of her nipple. "…it was you…" she breathed out.

If he had thought he'd have problem getting hard given the circumstances, it just disappeared. Her words brought him up in no time. The image of this beautiful woman, the woman he loved, the woman he craved, touching herself and his name escaping her lips, was all he needed to hang on to for the following course of events.

He buried his head in the crook of her shoulder.

"You don't know what you're doing to me…"

He said hoarsely, bringing his other hand underneath her, as he drew slow circles over the taut skin of her stomach, moving lower, and lower. She felt his warm, strong body pressing into hers with more force now, caressing her, holding her, warming her up and somehow soothing her.

She could feel him grow hard against her buttock, her words, and slight friction he applied moving his hips over her behind in a vague imitation of intercourse causing that. Yes, it must have been the reason, she thought aimlessly.

His moves, his touch were sure and focused, as if he fought to convince her that even if she felt lost and scared and confused and humiliated, he knew what he was doing and was guiding her through this and was there for her. Even though he felt just as scared and lost and humiliated as she did.

"Same what you do to me." She managed a weak smile, with her eyes still tightly shut, as he had told her.

"Kate… You are _everything_ to me, you know that?" he said quietly pressing a kiss to her temple. "If I lost you…"

"You're not going to lose me, Jack, not because of this, no. I do want_ you_, it's just the, the … the setting ain't perfect…" Kate threw a lame attempt at lightening the mood.

"But it's me… and it's you... It's_ me_ and _you_, just like you said." She _had _to get him into it. She had to persuade him. How was she ever supposed to survive the alternative? How could anyone – Jack of all people – expect her to give in and endure day after day of being turned into a lifeless rag doll?

No. She had to convince him.

"Jack…" she sighed.

"Yeah…" he breathed and threw a glance to the glass panel. There they were, the man with the clipboard scribbling something, looking sideways up on Jack and Kate at times, his face unreadable, the black woman with her brow furrowed and lips in a tight line and Henry, practically glued to the glass, with an expression which was a mixture of curiosity, disgust, awe and , yes, arousal. He was enjoying this. The thought sickened Jack, and he could feel himself go limp again. How on earth could his life have got down to _this_!

Kate felt it too, guessed Jack must have come to realization of their whereabouts. She still refused to open her eyes however, afraid that she might lose it then.

"Hey, hey, there, Jack, focus on me, focus on how much I've wanted you, how much I want to be yours, how much I dreamt of feeling you like this, feeling your skin against mine, how I watched your skillful hands and ached for them to close over my breasts" –he did just that- "how I wished to feel your lips on my neck" – he brought them there – "how I couldn't breathe when I imagined what would it be like to have your rough cheek rubbing on my shoulder blade" – he complied.

And she was glad to feel him harden again, the harder he was, the quicker it would all be over, she thought biting back a sob. Any other time, any other circumstances, she'd want it to never end, to last for eternity. Yet here she was now, whispering sweet nothings to the man she loved, the man who was pouring so much tenderness and passion and care into his kisses, into his touch on her exposed body, and yet she was forced to want it to end. That's what they had reduced her to.

Suddenly, a sharp sting of anger stabbed through her whole being, as she slapped herself mentally. _Oh no, Kate, you can't let _them_ win, not without a fight. This_ is_ Jack, this _is_ him, _him, _who you'd only dream about, him, meaning the world for you, him, the caring, the compassionate, you had dreamt night after night to be with him like this, you won't let them make you hate him._

"Kate, a single day hadn't passed since I met you that I wouldn't want to… just pin you down and bury myself in you, the aching only growing harder and more unbearable with time." He whispered as his fingers massaged her hard nipples. Oh, what he would give to be able to close his mouth around them. What colour are they? He wondered. Are they soft shell pink, or are they a colour of deep golden tan; are they chocolate-brown?

"Kate… What colour are your nipples?" The question slipping out as he tried to map out and memorize the shape of her breasts with his hands.

"What?" she gasped surprised and let out a tiny chuckle "You want to know what colour my _nipples_ are?" She repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah." he breathed. _In case I never get to see them_. His mind added, the words never coming out. She seemed to have had guessed them, though.

"I won't tell you. You'll see for yourself, when we get out of here." She stated emotionally.

He set his jaw, and slipped one hand down her belly, through a mass of coarse curls, down her slit, and just pressed it to her tightly, palm down, the heel of his hand hitting her most sensitive spot as he did so. She gasped at the unexpected pleasure.

"Jack…" was all she could utter, as he eased a couple of fingers in between her folds and started applying steady, rhythmical pressure rubbing her gently but firmly, digging his hand into her hot flesh. He was relieved to find her wet; he hadn't believed she would be ready for this, for him, the thought of causing her pain like a stab to his heart.

"Oh…" her lips formed an "o" and she let out the tiniest moan feeling him dip one of his long fingers at her entrance, as if teasing her, never stopping the friction against her clit. Adding another finger then, pushing deeper, stretching her deliciously, pressing on her front wall, looking for a sensitive spot there. And Kate suddenly arching her whole body, jerking, head slightly up, hips bucking into his hand, hands gripping the edge of the table, telling him that he found it.

He was glad he had told her to close her eyes and not open them again until it was over. He was glad she was complying. And that she was so responsive. He had feared it that he wouldn't be able to get a reaction from her, that she wouldn't be able to lose herself in the sensations, to forget.

Yet Kate was perfectly aware of their position, but made a conscious decision to give herself to Jack, to not let it ruin whatever future may hold for them, to be able to go back to him for more, when the nightmare of imprisonment ends, as she still believed it would. So she focused solely on his hand between her legs, his fingers working her, searching tirelessly for the right pace, the right spots, the right pressure that would draw his name from her lips in a moan. She focused on the sound of his heavy breath and the hot feel of it, on his sweet, comforting weight atop her, on his other hand on her hip, squeezing the side of her buttock lightly; and then a sudden rush of cold air replaced the warmth of his protective body on her back, and she felt him remove the shirt, his shirt, which he had graciously covered her with, and she heard the click of a belt buckle being opened, and flinched involuntarily, in a moment of panic and helplessness and total lack of control. He must have sensed it; she felt him bringing his warm mouth to her spine again, kissing his way up and murmuring into her skin.

"It's me, Kate, I'm here, it's me. You and me, remember, just you and me. Don't open your eyes, breathe me in."

She did, as he nuzzled her neck, and his familiar salty scent immediately soothing and arousing her both at once. Then his fingers left her hot opening, and she heard a click of his tongue.

On an impulse, Jack brought his hand up to sniff on her juices, to taste them, the scent arousing him momentarily.

"Kate, you smell, you taste like the very essence of femaleness." She heard him licking his fingers "It's so fucking good." And with his mouth wrapped around his thumb, he chose to look up at Henry, who was trying and failing to cover the fact that he was practically panting by the glass, while the other two remained in their clinical, observant mode, and didn't seem to be bothered at the slightest by the view.

Jack couldn't help but feel secretly pleased at Henry's obvious distress, deep down, even though he wouldn't deny his own.

He rubbed Kate's buttocks lightly, squeezing them just a little, moving his fingers to the sensitive skin where they met the thighs and to the inside of her thighs. She sighed softly, but couldn't really bring herself to enjoy that as much as when she could feel him on top of her. She missed the warmth, the smoothness of his skin, and his reassuring presence, the cool air threatening to bring her back to reality in a flash.

She heard the pull of the zipper, and heard the rustle of fabric, as Jack discarded himself from his denims, He'd actually contemplated leaving them on, pulling himself out just the bit that was necessary, but decided against it as she would feel even worse knowing he's clothed while she isn't and feeling the denim against her skin rather than his flesh.

"Kate…" he said softly "I will now… I have to…"

But she knew what was coming.

"Do it, Jack, just do it." She said, _this is not how it's supposed to be,_ her mind added, a trace of sadness trembling in her voice, or was it fear? _This is not how it's supposed to be. _

Either way it was breaking his heart again.

Jack looked around in helpless remorse. He pressed himself suddenly to her whole body, like he did moments before, only harder, closer, tighter, finding her hands, gripping them firmly, pressing his lips against hers in a forced angle. She could feel him hard against her inner thigh and shuddered. Was really what she only hoped for during the sleepless, restless nights finally coming to reality? _Like that?_ _Like a lab rat?_ _Stripped of the look in his warm eyes, stripped of his sure embrace, of his kisses, so many kisses!... Stripped of what was left of her dignity?_ She breathed in convulsion.

"Kate, Kate" she felt him more then heard moving his lips against hers. "I swear to you, if there was any other way out of this…"

She nodded.

"I promise, I won't hurt you." he spoke, "Just focus, focus Kate, on me, on what you feel, on the sensations, forget the rest."

"Yeah… Forget the rest…"

She sounded alarmingly flat for his liking. Was she detaching herself from it? Was she drifting away, shutting her consciousness, shutting _him_ out? He knew that was what rape victims did. And he knew, he was trying to protect her from rape, by taking her through this ordeal as sensually, as lovingly as possible. But how could he had ever expected a forced intercourse, even with him, who she seemed to have wanted, lusted after, would be anything else than rape to her? He dreaded the thought.

"Jack?" she felt him tense and freeze on top of her.

And then his weight was gone again.

"I can't do it." He said quietly, his head down, his eyes on the ground.

"I can't do it!" this time violently loud, in the direction of Henry and his assistants.

Henry contorted his lips.

"It is a shame, Dr. Shepard, we were getting interesting observations here." he said in his dull clinical tone, composing himself quickly and not betraying any emotion with his voice.

"I guess it's time for option B, then. Miss Klugh." He nodded at the woman, who went up to the wall where a communication device was fixed on, by the door.

"No, Jack, no, what are you doing, you can do it, we can do it, I want you to do it, goddammit!"

It was Kate's scream pulling him out of the lethargy. She wriggled on the table in doomed attempts to get a better look on him. Her eyes snapped open the moment she heard him declare he couldn't.

"I can't, Kate" he shook his head slowly in resignation. "I can't rape you."

"It's not a rape Jack, it wouldn't be one, Jack, listen to me, you got me all…" she stumbled for words "… ready, willing... Does it sound like a rape victim?" she squirmed.

"Bring the mating males down here" They heard Miss Klugh's flat voice.

"No, No, NO, Please, please, Jack do something, say something, tell them you've changed you mind, you promised you won't get me hurt here, it can't be them, it can't be, please, please, Jack, just do it-" she blabbered through the violent sobs that ripped through her body, chocking, swallowing her words.

He was by her side, holding her, as best as he could with her being anchored to the flat surface, both of them stark naked, he gripped her hand.

"How could you, how can you do this to me!"

she spat out through her tears.

"Will you watch as they rip me, one by one, will you really let that happen!"

_Will you watch my pain, my blood, will you watch as I scream, scream for you, as they make me a mere crust, haunted forever by this memory, where no amount of the words you just spoke to me will ever, ever awake any fire again, Jack, because there will be none?_

She was shaking now.

"No, Kate, I couldn't watch it, I couldn't let that happen." He said forcefully, looking right into her eyes. _It would break me; it would tear my soul apart, I'd die inside and never come to life again._

"But I can't do the very same thing to you either!" His eyes closed in frustration.

She squeezed his hand and let her trembling fingers caress the back of it.

"Don't you see the difference, Jack? Don't you get it? You're the man I _want_ this to happen with, regardless of the circumstances, I _want_ you, there could never be any rape here." She tried to assure him, searching his eyes and curling her lips ever so slightly in an attempt of a smile, but what came out more like a pout, at which he smiled with his eyes.

He heard the flap in the door open, as a fragment of white lab coat on an arm, which held something looking very much like a crossbow with a vile little dart on the top of it appeared.

He new instantly what it meant.

"NO!" he yelled from the top of his lungs.

The hand stopped, and Jack heard Henry's voice.

"All right Dr. Shepard, we are growing a little tired of your indecisiveness. This is you last chance."

The flap closed. Jack returned to Kate, who was sobbing violently now.

"Please Jack, I love you, I love you, I do, and I won't stop, just get me out of this, get me out, you can end this."

She panted with her eyes tightly shut. When she opened them, she was staring into his beautiful brown depths, and there it was, there she saw what was lost ever since he was brought to this room: determination and strength. He was strong enough to do it, to let them watch him taking her now and then, even in the miserable state she was in and protect her from the cruel, savage alternative.

"I'll end it."

He told her, placing his lips on hers again. Tentatively, he flicked his tongue over the edge of her upper lip, but pulled away when she gasped at the hot, wet contact and open her mouth to let him in, deciding this _they_ wouldn't watch, and not wanting his kisses to be a reminder of the nightmare to her. He wanted to save them.

"Can you unlock her?" He tried once more, quietly.

No answer, no movement.

Time passed, he thought, she needs to be out of it.

He shut his eyes, as he stood behind her, steadying his breath, letting the fear consume him for five long seconds and then pushing it away, taking himself in hand - he was now completely flaccid, so Jack pulled a sure-fire image out of his mind: the image of Kate's soft mouth enveloping his length, how the velvet recess of it would feel against his throbbing cock, all wet and hot, and how her little tongue would dart teasingly over the tip, and than how she'd run it flat along the underside, how she would take him up to his very base and would be making all those moaning an humming noises, and she would look up to him with those beautiful green eyes, flickering with her desire for him. He imagined all that, while applying long, steady strokes to himself, and felt growing hard gradually, rock hard, as he pictured how she'd drink all of his release, lick him clean, and lick her lips as if she had just have the rarest delicacies of the universe, and grin wickedly as he pulled her back to his arms.

He allowed no thoughts of how that may never happen if he proceeded with what they want of him.

He looked up to her, and what he saw caused him to stumble.

She turned her head around and was watching him with … fascination, apparently unable to tear her eyes away, and when she brought her gaze to meet his, he felt his cock growing harder in his hand, for what he saw flashing in there was the darkness of pure lust. For him.

He positioned himself above her, oblivious to the surroundings, refusing to hear anything but her quick breathing, to see anything but the canvas of her peachy skin, to smell anything but the breezy scent of her desire, and to touch anything but her.

He hovered above her once again, placing kisses in the crook of her neck, on her shoulder, along her spine, licking her skin as he went, wetting it, and then blowing lightly, flicking the sensations. He remained silent; she let out a gasp which formed into his name.

As Jack rubbed his hardened length along the joining of her thighs, testing, if she was ready, if he needed more moisture out of her, wondering hastily how to draw it, she arched into him, and he knew. Just two words escaping his throat as he entered her in a slow but determined stroke:

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't you ever dare to be" – her reply coming in a breathless whisper.

And he felt how she flexed inwardly, adjusting to his size, how she encouraged him with a grip of her tight muscles, at which he drew in a sharp breath and jerked.

_Oh, he feels good_, she noticed, the words not exactly arranging into a clause in her head. He felt right, and he fit her so perfectly, and he filled her like that's where he belonged.

And he was starting to move, gripping her hips, gripping her for support, bringing her closer to him, as he buried himself in her up to the core. He glanced at their joining, to see that despite the achingly exquisite tightness he was not bound to cause her pain, as he slid out of her slippery wet with her own want and need for him. In and out, up and down, he thrust deliberately slow, to give her time, to buy him time, his mind set on giving her everything, all of his love.

He leaned over her once more, pressing his chest to her back as he slipped his hand again down her front, gripping her there. He pressed firmly and as he moved, her little bundle of nerves was hit with the rhythm of his thrusts. She gasped, and looked over her shoulder, to meet his dark eyes. Hers were clouded, eyelids hooding them, her mouth open, her cheeks flushed, he was mesmerized by the dangle of her curls, as her head swung back and forth with the force of his strokes inside her. She was obviously uncomfortable in her position, arms burning, elbows digging into the hard surface, her neck aching, but she couldn't stop looking at him, wouldn't stop. She had to see him, it was the only way to go through his, gazing into his loving eyes.

He increased the pressure of his hand on her clit, as he picked up the pace and force, banging into her now, causing the metal cluster to screech and her upper body to slide up and down its surface, rubbing the sensitized nipples over the steel. She griped the edge for support, just as he changed the angle slightly, and she felt her insides tingle, and then spasm, once, twice, and she was hit by an unexpected wave of ecstasy, as she opened her mouth in a silent scream, her eyes never leaving his, as she rode the waves panting what was probably his name, thrown out with each breath, but he could barely hear her. He watched in awe, as her cheeks and chest flushed in an instant, as her eyes were begging to snap shut, but she wouldn't give in, staring right at him, baring her soul, letting him know everything he did to her.

He never stopped, nor slowed down; he went even faster and harder now, his brow furrowed under a few droplets of sweat. She still watched him, watched him all the time, hungry to see his release. He pumped into her, and briefly wondered if he was being too rough, especially given the circumstances. But all thoughts were lost, when he felt her tighten around him again, pulsating, and he looked up to see the "o" on her lips again, and could clearly hear his name now, over and over, as her eyes reflected the eternity.

He lost it then. Control becoming a concept from the past. He gripped her hips on both sides forcefully, maybe bruising her delicate flesh, and with several powerful strokes which she observed as if hypnotized, he came right inside her, shuddering, and clenching his teeth, his eyes born intensely in hers, so she could see the whole world falling back into place there, just as he just saw in hers.

He collapsed on her back, the rough skin of his stubbly face against her sweaty smooth one. He pressed an openmouthed kiss there, and just cradled his head in the curve between her shoulder blades, then moved up to nuzzle her neck, only to be terrified when he saw her face: she was crying.

"Kate, Kate, oh God, did I hurt you!" He moved out of her immediately, and half stood up, to be stopped by her words.

Her head shook in negation.

"Don't move, stay as you were" So his head found its way back, resting back gently on her shoulder.

"Kate…"

Her eyes fluttered open and he could see painful bliss there, restrained by the fact she couldn't hold him, couldn't touch him, couldn't be happy ever after with him right then.

"See, I told you, you'd make it good." A weak smile, at him.

"Kate…" could feel the tears stinging his own eyes, as he reached over again to clasp her tiny hands.

"I'll make it up for you once we get out of here, Kate" he urged, "I swear I'll do anything to make it up."

_I love you._ With the single, clear thought she closed her eyes.

"Kate, Kate, please don't shut me out" he pleaded. _I love you more than life itself._

"I'm not shutting you out." she smiled gently "I'm resting".

She met his gaze and the familiar twinkle in her eyes told him she just might indeed make it through this. Even if she had no idea now.

"Thank you for your co-operation, Dr. Shepard, this has been very interesting." came Henry's voice from behind the glass, bringing them back to the heart-wrenching reality.

"Now. Time for the second part of the test. Bring them in." He nodded at Miss Klugh.

"WHAT! NO! you _can't_ do this, you _promised_ she would be unharmed! That if I did it…" He yelled, jumping off of her, blind rage and immense fear replacing his entire being.

"We never said that."

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_So that's it, tell me what you think, pretty please, just be kind on me /looks-up-in-manner-of-Shrek's-puss-in-boots/, since this is my very first story! Well, not technically, but first one I submitted here. I'd planned it as one shot, but may continue if the demand is there. Only don't really know where to take it on, since the interesting direction looks too gruesome for me to write, I'm not _that_ cruel, you know, lol, but the smooth direction looks plain boring. __Just let me know._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **OK, so here goes continuation, eventually, by popular demand. ;) The story does have a plot now, although I can't be entirely sure where it'll end._

_I have incorporated some S3 events, because when I thought about answers to the questions in my mind (why? why? and why? ;)), they fitted perfectly. However, it will in all likelihood turn out that we – me and S3 – are parting ways soon enough. At least I hope so!_

_Since we all know now that Henry's name is now Ben, I'm referring to as such, please don't be confused. HenryBen. I'll revise chapter 1 accordingly, in spare time .Jack refers to him as Henry, because he doesn't know yet._

_I know that Juliet is generally speaking not a favourite among Jaters (who I am, too!). But from what I've seen of her so far, picked my interest. In my story, she'll be a tragic character and there might just be a good reason _not_ to hate her. I'm not gonna reveal anything else yet. :)_

_This is an M-rated fic, yes, but I can't promise much smut for a while, now that we have a plot. I'll do my best, though. LOL_

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"Not exactly as expected," the older woman's face reflected a bluish glow of a computer monitor.

"Quite the contrary, Bea, quite the contrary," Ben observed, seemingly pleased with himself. "I couldn't have had it going any better."

"What if she gets pregnant? The usual?"

"Well…," he was interrupted by the door flying open violently and slamming against the wall.

"Exactly, Ben! _What_ if she gets pregnant?! Have you even thought about it?! Just _what_ on earth have you done?!"

The blonde woman's voice sounded close to hysterical.

Juliet's heart was pounding and her breath was coming in rasps, the unusual agitation raising Ben's eyebrow. She had been running here, up from the basement, a tight knot forming in her throat when she had found Jack's cell empty and rage pulsing in her temples when she was told the news.

How could she have trusted him? How could she have let him fool her? _Again?_ That was never supposed to happen. Ben's overblown ego was undermining their project, she decided angrily.

She stepped closer, invading his personal space, searching his cold eyes.

"We need her, Ben!" she hissed. "We need her alive! How could you have risked pregnancy?!"

Juliet's real fear unspoken, but insistent at the back of her mind, she chose to focus on the obvious.

"Calm down, Juliet." Ben wasn't one easily intimidated, not even by an aggressive outburst of the normally well composed woman. He placed one hand on her shoulder, pushing her back slightly.

"Of course we need her alive. And she _will_ get pregnant, one way or another. I'll make sure of it."

"Ben! We can't afford…!"

"I said, _calm down_. You're getting emotional," he reprimanded her. "We'll let her have it, of course. When it happens."

_When_. Not _if. _It wasn't lost on her.

"It would actually save us a lot of time and hassle if it happened now."

"What if she… What if she wants to get rid of…? What if she succeeds? What if she harms herself! Ben?!" Juliet was yelling now. "Have you not thought about it?! God, how could I have been so stupid to trust you!"

She spun around away from the shorter man exasperatedly, pressing one palm to her forehead. Juliet was petrified how what started as a grand scientific project, designed to bring her splendor and respect, designed for an entirely new quality of life was striking her in a horribly uncontrollable backlash, how everything was slipping out of her hands. Where did she take the wrong turn?

"Oh, she won't." Ben chuckled. "Of that I assure you."

"How can you be so sure?! You _do_ know what happened before, for god's sake, stop acting like you don't!"

Juliet was boiling inside, of both fury and regret, and… something she couldn't quite place. Pain? Why would she feel pain? She chose not to dig into it.

"You'll understand when you watch it."

Juliet clenched her teeth. He was right; she had to watch the recording.

It wasn't, after all, an option they hadn't discussed before. An "if-all-else-fails" option. And she had to admit, Jack Shepard had managed to put up an admirably convincing performance. He had had them tricked for a while. _That_ was what they couldn't afford. They needed him, and disillusioned. They needed him much more than the Austen woman, although Juliet knew, the project involving them both was Ben's biggest obsession and she couldn't deny, she was secretly anxious for the results too, deep down, underneath her aversion for Ben and deeper yet, beneath her strange attraction to the man. Jack Shepard.

Juliet realized, her shock came from denial. She had never really believed, Ben would reach for this. Last-chance option. Her heart sunk silently, feeling cold.

"You should have given me more time." She whispered wearily. "I was getting there."

"You weren't, Juliet, and we both know it. He'd seen through you."

"All I needed was time. A little more time!"

"We've got to him." Almost a smug smirk.

"He's right Juliet, we've got him now." Juliet turned her gaze to the black woman.

"And you, Bea?" she said quietly now, disappointment not hidden anymore. "You're backing him up?"

"Juliet." Ben patted her shoulder in false reassurance. "I'm perfectly aware what had happened and that's why we need him. He's ours now, Juliet. He's all ours."

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Kate felt numb.

Quite literally, too, from staying in the same position for what seemed like hours, days, years. She felt like floating above time and space, curled up on the mattress they had given her for bedding, clutching a coarse, army-like blanket to her front, but not really caring about covering up. Not caring about warming up. The cold of air was nothing compared to the cold in her heart.

"_Say goodbye, Kate_."

Jack.

The name rang in her ears in an eternal loop.

Jack. Jack. Jack.

As if by repeating it, she could cling to him, cling to his warm, dear body, sink and melt in his strong arms. The tattoos. She had never touched them, it occurred to her in a bizarre twist of thought. Kate didn't have any tears left.

After she had been tortured with an implication of fore coming rape, after he had been forced to take her in some cruel, dehumanized jest of a laboratory research, as they had called it, after she had got to experience the warmth, the love, the desire of his, refusing, trying so hard to refuse the manipulation, but focusing on him, _him_ who she had had dreamt about touching her, loving her and whose beautiful hands had been on her bare skin right then, after she had confessed her love, love for the most amazing person she had ever met, _her only one, she knew it,_ they came to take him.

Three men, dressed in white. He couldn't have fought them. She had screamed. Cried. Begged them for his safety. For his life.

"_Say goodbye, Kate_." the man behind the glass administered in an almost amused voice which made Kate physically sick.

"_For how things are looking now, when – or shall I say '_if' - _you see your knight again, he'll be an entirely different person."_

It had been quick. A flash of light reflected in the metal, a stab of needle into his neck, and then he had gone limp, sliding against the wall they had been holding him against, to the floor, life fading in those bright eyes.

They had taken him, leaving Kate alone for the longest quarter of her entire life, sick with fear, expecting the worst, bracing herself for pain, so much pain, and then more, in his eyes. She had been sure, the pain in his eyes would have killed her, would have literally stopped her heart from beating.

But he had never appeared on the other side of the glass. As they had threatened. Instead, the black woman had approached Kate, and before she had had time for a scream, the room had gone spinning and she had registered a needle being already pulled out of her neck.

Kate woke up back in her cell, still naked, but covered with the colourless blanket.

The hateful dress still on the floor, where she had ditched it. No other clothes.

Her wrists and ankles sore and bloodied from her desperate struggle in the steel clasps.

The taste of his lips still lingering in her mouth.

His scent still lingering to her skin.

Without thinking, Kate slowly moved one hand down in between her legs, brushing her fingers along inner thighs, a sob escaping her throat upon a vivid memory of feeling him inside. As if everything in her life had led to that very moment, one step after the other, lapse after lapse.

Was there a master plan designed for them somewhere out there?

Was she merely a passive pawn in a bigger game?

Was anything, ever, up to her?

Why did he feel so right, so uttermost right...? Was it wrong that he felt right? And did he really…? Did he actually comply to _their _orders?

Kate brought her hands up to examine the traumatized wrists, a memory of harsh metal around them tying a knot in her throat.

The battle of relief and grief, of hope and resignation, of love and grudge was a curse to her heart. A curse to turn it into stone.

She had wanted him for so long, she couldn't remember what it was like not to ache for his touch, but did it mean she had prepared for sacrificing herself? Or _him_? Had the fragile spell been broken?

The answer was somewhere there, deep within her, but she couldn't find it.

Kate dipped a finger into her still damp folds and then brought it up to her nose. The salty smell of herself enhanced by a trace of pungent muskiness. Him. Jack. She inhaled deeply, feeling a hot flush of tears in her eyes. She could cry again.

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Pain.

Thud, throbbing pain was what woke him. His head was ready to explode.

Jack blinked several times, letting his blurred vision sharpen. He scanned the surroundings. His very cell. The place, where he had been trapped for god knows how many days, months, years now. Time had merged into unreadable fog in the artificial light of the yellow bulb above him, time didn't matter anymore.

What happened?

He felt unexplained uneasiness, pulling himself up from the floor, his whole body heavy, aching, exhausted, as if he had run for miles to fall of a cliff.

The pain in his head increased in an upright position and he had to slow down.

What happened here?

He frowned, not remembering falling asleep, not recalling any physical work outs. For all he knew, the Juliet woman was here before, with her low, soft voice, with her large, moist eyes, trying to talk him into cooperation at whatever it was they wanted from him. Manipulating him. Making promises, he knew she would never keep. Bargaining.

He had seen right through her, he thought bitterly, right through that little shrew who had thought she was clever. Bringing Sarah up. Bringing memories up. Implying superiority with the knowledge of his life. Wherever from.

But that they knew about his actions, didn't mean they knew _him_.

Or did it?

Jack stood up, staggering. Something was wrong. Very wrong, he realized, spotting an angry bruise on his forearm. Like from a death grip. Fingers. He could make a shape of fingers in the bruise.

Jack's mind strained as he tried to find anything in his memory, a scrap, a piece of anything that could explain why his shirt was open and his belt unbuckled.

"Hello, Jack."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Here, have a look at it." Ben turned the monitor towards Juliet.

"Ben…," a trace of warning in her voice.

"_Juliet._ You should see it, you'll understand why it can't fail." he insisted, glaring straight into her gray eyes, which now reflected the image from the screen. A man and a woman. In a dance of eternal pattern imprinted into them; programmed for them to choose it.

Juliet was transfixed. She couldn't avert her gaze even if she wanted to. The screen was flickering, but the image was clear.

The woman was trapped, tied to a table-like appliance, equipped with steel hoops, which held her wrists and ankles. Helpless and open to whatever the fate was bringing. Naked, at his mercy. His.

The man, _Jack Shepard_, was leaning into her, pressing himself into her bare back, stroking her arms, slipping a hand underneath her, nuzzling her neck, saying something to her, which couldn't be heard. He thrust his groin lightly against her buttocks, rubbed it, more like, while his other hand disappeared beneath the woman's lower abdomen, reaching lower yet, and she was responding by arching her back and bringing her behind up to him, in a primal invitation.

Juliet could hear a muffled echo of shallow gasps which must have had been two names breathed out by each of them, one over the other.

"Well?" Ben's voice sounded as if it was coming from miles away.

"She…" Juliet started, hypnotized by the image. "She… participated?"

"Oh, Juliet, you _knew_ she would!" he chuckled.

She bit her lip. _You knew she would._ Why would it bother her?

"Why did you have her tied up, Ben? If you were so sure?" Juliet's eyes bore into him for once.

"And how do you think I was going to convince him?"

Juliet didn't answer. She looked back to the screen. He was kissing her now, kissing her on the lips, in a heartbreakingly tender manner.

No, Juliet briefly shut her eyes tight in exasperation; Thoughts like that were off the limit; thoughts clouded by any traces of emotion perturbed her judgment. This is science. This is for better good. He is the subject. She is not supposed to _feel_ anything as regards him. Absolutely nothing.

And yet, she couldn't ignore the fact, that what she was now sweeping into the darkest, most secret corners of her mind was sympathy.

She felt for him, her heart skipping a bit at the notion of what he had been forced to do. Of what she knew the final effect would be. How she was the one to twist the knife in his heart soon.

Further behind yet she kept buried the feelings, she couldn't name, she _wouldn't_ name, the ones stirring her long-forgotten need to be true, to be for real, to be herself.

The image unnerved her, there was no denying. It dug straight into the longing, born deep within her, the longing to feel strong male hands closing over her own breasts, to have a hot breath burning her skin, to arch her back into a primal invitation. To belong. Was it that man who awoke her senses for a split second?

That split second left her panicking.

Did Ben realize?

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"_What_ the hell happened to you, Freckles?! What have they done to you?! I swear, I'll skin the motherfuckers at first chance…!"

Kate watched Sawyer jumping up to the rusty bars of the cage he found him imprisoned in.

Her rigid legs had carried her on in short, stumbling steps, as if in a haze, as if they were moved by strings, not her brain, and she was a puppet of fate.

Fighting hard to keep her composure, Kate looked at him with unseeing eyes. Through him.

When the bearded man had come for her, all she had been capable of was a stubborn demand to know what happened to him. Jack. _What did they do to him?_ She'd kept asking pleadingly, angrily, desperately.

The man had never answered, but ordered her to get dressed and prepare to leave instead. Kate's insides had revolved and tightened into a painful knot. _Not again, please, not again._ For once, they were going to act true to their word, she had thought bitterly.

So she had walked, numbly, silently, biting back the sobs that would betray her fear, her resignation, holding her weary, handcuffed hands close to her chest as if in defense.

"Freckles-"

Sawyer's voice cracked. Gone was his usual cynical demeanor, gone was the provocation of his previous remark about the dress. Replaced by what sounded very close to genuine concern, she observed.

"You 'kay?"

She nodded faintly.

"Hell, Freckles, ya look to me like you've been to a friggin' vampire ball," he thrown in attempt to get her attention.

"Where's ya' freckles, Freckles?" His wisecrack completely lost on her.

Kate blinked, taking in her trap for the first time. An oversized cage, like one for a guinea pig, but magnified to accommodate human size, surrounded by dense bushes, down in the wild, lush greenery of the tropical forest.

A nauseating, sweetish scent lingering to the sticky humidity.

They were indeed _guinea pigs_, thought Kate in resignation, the _lab rats._

Sawyer stayed pressed closely to the bars of a separate cage, not further away than twice the arm length, watching her intently, obviously agitated by her silence and reserve. By her lifeless, unusual inertia.

"Wha' they up to? Figured anything?"

She shook her head as if in slow motion.

He pressed himself even tighter into the bars, signaling an intention to move closer to her.

"Seen _him_..? Doc?" Sawyer muttered, somewhat reluctantly, glancing at her from under his brow.

"Yeah…"

"Oh, good," he sounded relieved but it wasn't as much with the information itself as the fact, she spoke finally. "He 'kay?"

Kate brought her eyes up to meet his, to really look at him for the first time since she got locked in there. His face had changed, she noticed in surprise. There was something in those sharp features that softened them visibly, something in those stormy blue eyes that she had never seen before…

"I don't know," it was taking all her willpower not to break down in front of him as she bit back a sob. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't know."

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"Why didn't you drug her?"

"Bea, you _know_ the dangers. You know what she's capable of. She has to know, should _the consequences_ strike."

Neither looked at the other, their gazes firmly on a strained, muscular silhouette of a man, pacing up and down a sordid room in long, jumpy strides, in manner of a trapped panther. He had no chance to see them, as they continued to watch the monitor image intently.

"But if all goes like we've assumed, she wouldn't either way…"

"We've already had that discussion, Bea. The odds aren't even."

"And since when are you relying on the odds?" Bea raised an eyebrow, locking her gaze with the scruffily clothed man.

No answer.

"Did you tell _her_?"

"No."

"You have to! It's too dangerous. Have you seen the way she looks at him? Are you acting on revenge here? Seriously, you of all people…!"

"And if I told her?" Ben raised his voice turning fully to the woman.

"Think, Bea, think! The project would blow out in milliseconds. She'd take his side in no time…!"

Ben appeared to retreat into his own thoughts. "Now… it _is_ a real danger, yes. But still, only a possibility. We're not gambling _certainty._"

"I thought you believed in fate, Ben."

"That's the thing, Bea. I do. I have. And I can't wait to prove myself wrong."

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"Where's Kate?!"

Jack's palms flat on the glass as he spat the question out demandingly. The blonde woman took a step forward; her gaze firmly bore into his eyes. He held it, challenging her.

"She's … fine, Jack."

"You're lying," his eyes narrowed as he hissed the words out right into the glass, in a cloud of steam.

"Why would I be lying to you, Jack?" soft-spoken, as ever, his mind registered, sarcastically, only making him want to grab her neck and squeeze all air out of it.

"You do it all the time," he stressed each word.

Jack was determined to get the answers, an undefined fear crawling up the back of his mind, to underneath his anger. _She has to be fine. Please.God.Whoever. She _is _fine…!_

"I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help you. To guide you. You can trust me, Jack…" Juliet took a step forward.

"Trust?!" he snorted. "Do you even know what that is? You _promised_ a proof of her safety! You _promised_ that I could see her!" he spurted out through clenched teeth right into the glass, the steam blurring her pale face. Every muscle in his body ached, the tight tension unbearable.

"You _lied_!"

"I didn't, Jack," the mellow voice sounded distant, as the woman averted her eyes and took a step back now. "We didn't."

"What the fuck happened here"? Jack's thoughts were racing in a desperate need to make any sense of his position, to connect the memory snatches.; Kate. To see her. To make sure she was alright. To wake up in pain... The food… The food.

"The_ food_…!" he stated more than questioned, piercing her with his eyes, wishing he could penetrate into her skull.

"Jack…"

"You bugged the food."

"It's for the greater good, Jack; you're a doctor, a man of science, you should understand –, " she got interrupted by another angry yell.

"Fucking hell! How could I have believed you!" He couldn't believe himself.

"Jack, we know everything about you…" her head tilted to the side and she didn't seem all that agitated. Disturbed, melancholic, more like, as she stepped further away from the glass wall and into the shadow of his concrete prison.

"You know _nothing_, understand?" Jack stated forcefully. "Just because you managed to staple up my legal history, doesn't mean you know _me_!"

"We do."

The quiet voice sounded almost regretful, totally out of place, Jack noticed. The knot on his insides returned immediately; something was very wrong here and it was slipping out of his hands irretrievably.

All of a sudden he felt himself drowning in those blue eyes, falling off and away from gravity, into the hypnotizing pools of emotions that he had no idea where to place. Jack had nothing stored in him to compare the feeling with.

Like a lighting: as soon as it stroke, as soon it was gone.

"We know what you're capable of," she knocked him back to reality.

"Oh yeah?!" He snapped. "And would that include slicing your throat with that plate? Because, believe me…!"

"I believe you."

Again, Jack felt himself being thrown out of balance. _Did she? Did he?_

"Question is: do _you_ know yourself, Jack?" the pale face coming up again, tilted to the side. Her expression disturbingly serious. "Do _you_ know your boundaries, Jack?"

"What, you wanna test me?" he snorted almost spitefully.

"We already have," her voice barely audible.

"And you're still alive?" once again Jack brought his palms to the glass panel, feeling his arms' muscles tensing in a reflexive expectation to strike; sickening uneasiness just wouldn't leave his racing heart in this claustrophobic trap.

"Shitty test, looks like – " he started, only to be interrupted by her strangely agitated voice.

"Jack!" he could see her chest raising and falling in quick, broken breaths.

"Will you work with us...?" Juliet was almost pleading.

_Why?_ He searched his mind for possible answers desperately, fear and fury mingling. _Why, on earth would she push it?!_

It did nothing to relieve his anxiety.

"Where's Kate?!"

"You _do_ care about her, don't you?" suddenly a male voice joined in, as the door away from Jack cracked open and he could see a scruffily clothed man. _Henry._

Instantly, Jack's entire being switched to top alert.

"Is she alright..?" was all he managed to breathe out, despite all resolutions; hoping, praying to the god, he had never believed in. He _knew _now, the hours lost on his memory weren't about to turn into salvation. No. Ahead was waiting some doomed black hole.

_She's dead._

"Well… Dr. Shepard. Why don't you see for yourself?" the man's crooked smirk made him gulp. He glanced over to Juliet. She avoided his eyes, but he didn't miss her tightly clenched fists.

Several purposeful moves and a faint glimmering flicker of stifled light from a projector to the opposite wall, Jack's eyes grew wider and wider while his heart kept draining his body of blood, beat by beat, until he was an empty vessel, and than dying more, upon the faint image appearing on the gray wall.

It took him a while to comprehend the scene, to make out the participants, to register their actions.

Confused and frowning, he zoomed in on an image of intense coupling, his cock twitching involuntarily.

At first, all he could focus on was _her_ face. Her sweet, parted lips. Her dreamy green eyes. A brown lock stuck to her face. Rosy blush on her cheeks. _Alive_, so very alive!

Relief washed over him for a millisecond, before subsiding underneath horrifying realization: the position, the constraints… A man pounding into her forcefully. _Himself._

Jack felt his head spinning as he stumbled back into the oblivious surface of the table in his cell.

_No._

His mind looped on.

_No._

Unexpectedly, he let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Just what the hell is that?! A display of your software skills?!"

Jack watched, transfixed. Repulsed and aroused, relieved and disgusted, hopeful and terrified, all at once.

However they did it, however they'd produced the video of him ramming into her, finally claiming _her _as his and pouring all of himself inside her, even – or _especially_, he had to admit shamefully – with the painfully looking restraints giving her back to him, they were getting to him, storming at his weakest spot. Kate. The woman who awoke myriads of emotions in him, conflicting emotions, but for whom he wouldn't hesitate to comply to them.

Ben moved up to the glass, his face emotionless, save for a faint smirk.

"You overestimate us, Dr. Shepard," the man stated calmly, obviously pleased with the results of his cruelty. "And you certainly underestimate _yourself_."

Nausea clenched over his stomach, as the room began to spin. _The food. The missing hours_. His knees finally gave way and he felt his back colliding with the wall and sliding down, bringing him to the floor.

"I don't believe you-"

The image was doubled, reflected in the glass panel. Frantic coupling that had never supposed to happen. Him. And her.

Sighing in feigned boredom, Ben turned up the volume.

"_No, no, no, please don't-!" _a sharp shriek tore through the air. And through his heart. _Her voice._

"Do _you _know yourself, Jack?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FLASHBACK:

"Katherine Austen?"

Kate fluttered her eyes open, grimacing at the harsh morning sunlight pouring from behind the grated window. She pulled herself up from the bunk bed clumsily, the clothes she had been wearing on the previous day all creased and all her muscles sore.

Somewhat confused with the stranger's face, she nodded.

"There's something you could do for us."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I know, I know. It's all very loose threads now, but I promise they'll weave into some fabric. Please, have patience with me.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N:_** _I completely understand those of you, who said they liked chapter 1 better, because I did too! Lol It was such a fairytale and smut fest!...:) Now I'm trying to build a plot around it, hence the annoyance of chapter 2 – I had to start somewhere, and since the technical start was is taking place somewhere in the middle of the story, I need to take you through how it began. :) _

_OK, not to confuse you more than necessary, I'm going to reveal just one thing: my story is based on a theory, that the crash wasn't a coincidence, as is not the selection of survivors. Well, sort of. ;) _

_The show itself gave me the idea, although I will probably need to stretch some elements big time, because they won't fit into my theory. Lol Oh, what the hell, the 'Lost' writers do it all the time, I have a feeling! ;)_

_An yes, I have every intention to stick to Jate, ultimately (although there's a rocky path before them right now), but if the show turns into a massive Skate-soap, I can't promise I'd even watch it again, let alone have the heart to write fics…_

_-----------------------------------------------------_

FLASHBACK:

"There's something you could do for us."

The man could have been into his 60s, but had a surprisingly springy posture of a tall, lean frame, clad in an expensive looking navy trench coat. Kate was immediately drawn to intense gaze of piercing brown eyes on the elegant face.

But it wasn't him talking. He simply watched her from behind the steel bars. The voice belonged to the Marshall; the same who'd had hunted her obsessively, to finally track her down in the midst of this warm Australian spring, just about 48 hours ago.

He stood there now, looking small suddenly, Kate observed, next to the tall stranger.

"I don't understand," she said warily, eyeing them both. Exhausted and hopeless, she had been lying sleepless up into dawn, petrified by the portent of the years to come. Years of life wasted.

"Time to thank your lucky star, Austen, because you might just serve some use to the society."

"The gene raffle, more like," the gray-haired man's voice was calm and composed as he spoke for the first time.

"Excuse me?" the Marshall sounded thrown out of balance.

"Lucky draw in the gene raffle," he offered with a studied smile that his eyes didn't confirm. "Shall we talk in more comfortable surroundings?"

A nod from the Marshal and a guard went into Kate's cell to handcuff her and lead her down the corridor, following both men.

"Miss Austen," the older man started after they had taken the seats in a small, cluttered office room. Opposite sides of the desk.

"I represent an international scientific consortium, an association if you like, which purpose is constant research on variety of subjects concerning natural science to enhance and aid the quality of life." Kate's mind was taking in the information as he went on, his voice somewhat dull.

"The range of our work covers anything from meteorology to quantum physics, to evolutionary psychology, to molecular medicine. Recently, we've engaged into a particularly promising project which, if conducted properly, may lead to a revolutionary improvement of human existence. Of the existence of all life forms, to be precise."

Kate moved her gaze between the speaker and the Marshall. Still at a loss, she didn't yet decide if she should be feeling hopeful or scared.

The man leaned towards her just a notch.

"To continue the research, we are going to need volunteers," Kate felt cold shiver run down her spine when he bore his unreadable eyes into hers.

"People with specific genetic characteristics, which, as I have learned, you happen to be one of," he leaned his back to the chair's rest.

"I've never volunteered to anything, let alone to be a lab rat," Kate barked, her suspicions heavy on her stomach now.

"Miss Austen, you've misunderstood. No one's is talking about lab rats here!" he said with emphasis. "We are giving the participants a chance to create history, to contribute to a project of unthinkable significance, of discovering the ultimate freedom for humanity!"

"Why would I want to sacrifice myself on an altar of a syndicate the name of which I don't even know and for all it seems you can be a sect of ritual murderers?"

Kate snorted. As much as she tried to keep an aloof façade, tiny flickers of both hope and fear continued to jab at her heart.

"Dharma Initiative," he stated calmly. "That's the name. Here, you can read more about who we are," reaching to the inside pocket of his coat, the man produced a small booklet with an exotic looking logo on the cover and moved it over the desk in Kate's direction.

Her hands trapped at the small of her back, Kate could only gaze at the item.

"We are a credential, open organization, there is nothing to hide."

Why did she have a nagging feeling, the truth was exactly opposite?

"Why me?"

"In order to find suitable candidates, we've been monitoring and cataloguing the DNA obtained through common medical procedures of as many people as possible. Next we would approach them with this proposal."

_Easy_, Kate thought sarcastically. Just as if monitoring of all phone calls ever made anywhere wasn't enough in this world.

"So what is that makes me special to you?" she tilted her head, trying to read the man's face.

"Kate –" he leaned over the table again.

She didn't like him going all familiar on her, but said nothing.

"You have a certain rare combination of genes that is required for the process. I can not tell you anything else before you sign the agreement."

"And the process would be what exactly? Do you really expect me to sign a blank paper and then what, chop me into formalin specimen?"

_Was that why the cops brought him?_ To have her over with, gone, and quick? She suddenly felt very hot.

"No need to worry, no physical or other harm will be done to you, the procedures will mainly involve relatively uncomplicated tasks and basic examinations; we are strongly against any type of violence," he assured, as if reading her mind.

"It's your chance to pay back for your vices, Austen," the officer's voice reminded her about his presence.

"As much as I'd want to see behind the bars, I don't mind your criminal head serving an actual useful purpose for decent citizens."

The spiteful grin on his face gave her an impression, the man was downright evil.

She glanced to the mysterious Dharma advocate.

"That is correct, Kate," he nodded. "If you decide to join us, the charges will be dropped."

"But how…?"

"Let's say the significance of our work is widely recognized."

Kate frowned. _A conspiracy?_ It all sounded too ridiculous to be true. But they surely knew how to work her, how to plant a doubt in her mind, how to reignite her hopes. She had a chance to avoid prison…

"How long? How long the _project _will go for?"

"Certainly a lot shorter than your supposed sentence would be."

Not looking at him, Kate was struggling to assess her options. Perhaps she could escape from wherever they'd move her?

The man stood up.

"Think about it, Kate. And read the brochure. I'll be waiting for your decision."

Her head snapped up.

"Who are _you_?"

He nodded, for the impossibility to shake her hand.

"My name's Christian Shepard."

END OF FLASHBACK

-----------------------------------

He was dying.

Jack was dying inside; his soul, his heart, his mind crumbling into useless rubble of what was once memories, hopes, desires, fears, ambitions, grudges. He felt himself collapsing inwardly, as if pulled into an invisible black hole, each second closer and closer to being compressed into one meaningless molecule, his past, his present, his future all turning to sand.

They left him alone. Took the projector away. But the image was etched into his eyes, burning them, along with hot silent tears. Drained, he squeezed his eyelids tight, but it brought no relief. No change.

Because there wasn't any relief.

There wasn't anything left for him to do.

It was the worst kind of betrayal: of himself; he could no longer recognize the man reduced to a limp, numb body slumped in a gloomy corner of his concrete prison and a raw screaming wound in place of his heart. All his principles, all his beliefs, the very core of who he was, it was all twisted horridly now, laughing in his face.

He had loved her. He'd have had given everything to protect her, to make sure she'd be safe. He'd have given his own life, without hesitation. He'd have had denied her, let her be with the other guy if that was what would make her happy.

But he had wanted her too. Wanted to be with her, to give her all she needed, to make her feel loved and desired and safe. And worthy, adequate, capable of anything she dreamt. Happy. He had wanted to bring her pleasure, to know all of her, to be there for her when her memories haunted her, to hold her through the nightmares, to make her want to stop her run, stop for him and by him.

He loved her.

Jack buried his face in his calloused hands, unable to reverse the cringing recognition of the truth.

He had raped her.

Her recorded voice still rang in his ears. Pleading and terrified, begging him to stop, ripping him raw into pieces, blowing his brain up into bloodied pulp.

What was that they injected into him? How did it bring up the darkness which he had never dared to dig into? Was it there? Did he have it in him? To turn his back on what he believed so strongly, on his need for honesty, sincerity, _truth_? Would he give in to the primal lust which really made him no different than the next animal and intentionally bring such pain to _her? _Or_ anyone?_

Resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his pounding head in his palms, Jack searched for the answers within.

He didn't hear the door opening, lost in his grief.

"Jack."

The soft voice familiar now, he didn't have to look up.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," she spoke quietly.

"Are you," he stated towards the floor.

"You don't understand, Jack. It's all for a reason, a good reason. I want you to understand – "

She was cut off by Jack's face turning towards her suddenly with a gaze, he had hoped to x-ray her brain with.

"I don't believe it happened," he weighed each word carefully. "I'd never… Never."

"It did, Jack. You had," her face bore the same sympathetic, pitying expression as ever. It was driving him insane.

He slowly shook his head in denial. "It's not in me."

"You held a broken plate to my throat," she pointed, moving closer to the glass panel now. "And I believe you would use it, if necessary."

Jack swallowed hard letting her words sink in. _Would he really?_

"No," he said simply.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her mind and answered him with silence.

"It happened, Jack."

"Can I see her?" Surely if he could, their feeble hoax would just burst in no time; if he could just look into her eyes…

"Later."

"Later?" the grip on his insides tightened again. Would they let him?...

"Yes. Soon."

"Are you lying again?" he was watching her pale face attentively, desperate for any clues.

"I've never lied to you, Jack."

She just stood there, in silence, never taking her eyes off of him, for what seemed like hours. Her seemingly serene demeanor, her serious eyes, her almost apologetic smile, it was all getting on his nerves, but Jack returned the stare, hoping to break through her walls and dig into the truth.

"Why would you do something like this?" he whispered.

Juliet took her time before answering.

"We want you to discover the truth about yourself, Jack. It's the only way."

_The truth about himself._

"Only way to what?"

"To the greater good."

He watched as she shoved her hands in her trouser pockets and left, turning around once, to see him still crumbled to the floor.

Not much changed about her, he noticed in a surprise. Not like it probably should.

-----------------------------------------------

"It's not working, Ben," Juliet stated flatly.

She had gone to check on Jack while the other man kept an eye on the monitor, so he had already known the course of her conversation with the doctor.

It had broken her heart to witness his shock, his horror, his uttermost hurt at the video. They had the sound altered to make sure all he'd hear would be Kate's pleas for what had originally been _himself_ to take charge and save her from the threat of random men raping her.

Juliet knew all too well, that had never been an option, it was simply a show designed for him to do what he did.

_They were not animals, after all!_ Juliet wanted nothing more than to convince herself about it now.

But it never lessened the forbidden pain she felt at the sight of him, baring his soul, not caring anymore, chewing on his own heart.

"The initial shock is wearing out and he's not stupid," Juliet watched a single muscle on Ben's jaw twitch ever so slightly.

The man's eyes narrowed, still firmly on the screen.

"Give him time."

"The more time he has, the more he questions it, you've seen for yourself."

Juliet eyed Ben cautiously, hoping he hadn't sensed the traces of satisfaction in her voice.

"I'm disappointed with you, Juliet," _trust him to see right through you, _she thought bitterly.

Ben brought his gaze up to meet hers.

"I had faith in you, that you'd keep your emotions out and away from the project."

"But I do!" she stated defensively, a bit too eagerly, maybe. But the threat of never seeing _him_ again taking over and drowning all precautions right into among the sharks.

For that brief moment. Barely there.

"Yeah…," Ben sighed. "It's going to be your last chance, you know," his face contorted bitterly, rising the left eyebrow up in a somewhat intimidating manner, Juliet observed.

It was her turn to demand answers now.

"Why do you push it, Ben?" she leaned her face towards his, but otherwise made no move.

"We have enough trouble, without the tests. We need to focus on the crucial, Ben; why don't you drop the Dharma thing?!" Juliet could feel the adrenaline rush through her bloodstream in a fresh shot again.

"It was _years _ago, Ben! It's done,_ gone_, done with! We have some real issues instead!"

-------------------------------------------

_Next chapter: what's up with Kate? What really happened? And how did Jack end up in the "project"? Warning, though: it's NOT all what it seems. Crazy twists ahead. :)_


End file.
